


omne trium perfectum (Good) Things Come in Threes

by Creme13rulee



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alpha Victor Nikiforov, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Babies, Character's Name Spelled as Viktor, Explicit first chapter, Intersex, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Minor Character Death Mention, Mpreg, Mutual Masturbation, Nesting, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Now with angst and blini, Oblivious Katsuki Yuuri, Oblivious Victor Nikiforov, Omega Katsuki Yuuri, Omega Verse, Other, Public Sex, Rutting, Soft Omegaverse, Supportive Victor Nikiforov, but only for two paragraphs, fluff for days, initially meant to be wholesome, now just a lot of sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-24
Updated: 2018-06-24
Packaged: 2019-05-27 15:22:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15027512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Creme13rulee/pseuds/Creme13rulee
Summary: A Soft/ (somewhat) Wholesome A/B/O Omegaverse Post-Canon AUYuuri wins a third  gold medal. Viktor wins his third silver.On their night of celebrating-- the third good is bound to happen.Then Yuuri forgets his birth control.





	1. The Heat

There are only three things to be done with a woman. You can love her, suffer for her, or turn her into literature.  
–Lawrence Durell

 

 

“Yuuri, Yuuri, my good Yuuri.” Viktor cooed, nuzzling into his student’s neck. They had just finished the last day of competition, and Yuuri sat at the top for the third year in a row.

They had just made it back to the hotel after a late dinner. Yuuri laughed, drunkenly pressing the medal around his neck to Viktor’s lips. His back was pressed against the still-locked doorway to their room, and they were both still in their team jerseys. (It was highly inappropriate to do what they were doing in public … but Viktor wasn’t the most modest coach.)

Yuuri’s cheeks were flushed with half a bottle of wine, and he looked even more delicious than the chocolate cake they had shared twenty minutes prior. He had his hair slicked back exactly the way Viktor loved it , his cheekbones sharpened by a galaxy smear of glitter that matched his husband's. Viktor kissed the gold medal, warmed by Yuuri’s skin, before slipping past it to take Yuuri’s lips in his. Yuuri batted weakly at Viktor’s cheek.

  
“Pick me up,” He slurred, slipping a finger into Viktor’s collar.”Carry me.” He smiled the dangerous smile that Eros had brought out of him, looking up from under his eyelashes.

“I always do, Yuuri. Give me a turn?” Viktor pouted, and Yuuri tugged at his shirt.

“Youuu… did not win today.” Yuuri hummed, tilting his head to the side with shy sass. “Kiss it.”

Viktor pouted, kissing the medal, and then the wedding band on the hand that held it up for him.

“You’re right,” Viktor sighed, albeit happily. He leaned down, scooping Yuuri up into his arms. Yuuri settled comfortably into them, tucking his head against Viktor’s shoulder. He was in his best shape for the season , but when he touched Viktor , he melted. He was soft, warm and entirely too tempting.

“Ah-- the door.” Viktor cursed himself for his alcohol-addled foresight, before Yuuri pulled the key card from the lanyard hanging around his husbands neck. Viktor bowed to allow Yuuri to tap it to the sensor before pushing the door in with his back.

“Bed. Please.” Yuuri murmured into the skin of Viktor’s neck.

   A shiver of pleasure ran down his spine and settled with other warm feelings in the pit of his stomach. Yuuri placed a kiss against the skin of his husbands neck, tasting the salt of the sweat of competition. They had gone right to dinner after the medal ceremony, filled with adrenaline and joy-- and now with good food and wine.

Neither of them had changed or showered-- as probably would together. It could have been the hundredth medal and they would both be joyous, celebrating in their own routine together  
Yuuri nipped at Viktor, a soft sharp brush of his teeth. Viktor felt himself unravel, draping Yuuri across their king sized bed.

He went to unlace Yuuri's shoes, carefully pulling them off. Viktor paused, kissing each bruise, bandage and taped muscle from Yuuri’s new Olympic branded boots. He relished the soft sounds Yuuri made in response to him. His fingers grasped the white cotton sheets and the matte satin blanket.

  
Viktor had been surprised when they had breached the topic of their so-called secondary sexes. Viktor had gone through puberty (and most of his adulthood) ignoring life, love and ...reproduction. He knew he was deemed alpha due to the mandated health check-ups he had done yearly. But being one had little effect on him or his life until he found Yuuri. Who, true to himself, had turned bright-red at the topic, but did not laugh when Viktor confessed he had no idea what Yuuri was. The vast majority of people were betas-- those un-attuned to pheromones and only capable of one half of the procreation cycle. Yuuri just happened to be born an omega-- or someone sensitive to pheromones, as well as being able to carry children as well as impregnate others. They had lived in close quarters for months without the topic being breached-- mainly due to Viktor’s in expertise and Yuuri’s due diligence on taking his suppression medication. Viktor just took it as another way the universe told them that they were perfect for each other. Once they had talked about it in the beginning of their relationship, life went on as normal.

Yuuri took his medicine diligently — heat would be disruptive to a competitive athlete, on season or off.

“Yuuri, “ Viktor purred. “Now it’s my time to tease you--”

Viktor slid his hands up Yuuri’s legs to his hips before he stopped short.

Yuuri snored softly, his face softened by the kind of sleep that loosened every string holding him together and left him loose and useless. His arms laid splayed out on the mattress, open wide, and Viktor laughed.

His hands went from pressing into Yuuri’s hips to unzipping his jacket. He pulled Yuuri up to unzip the back of his costume, Yuuri’s face pressed into his chest. His lips moved into a sleepy smile and yuuri unconsciously snuggled into him Viktor shook his head-- peeling off the rest of his husbands costume. Yuuri was still half-hard, but lost to the world. He would be lucky if Yuuri was awake by noon at this rate. He should have known-- Yuuri had woken up early in order to get one-on-one time with Viktor before he went to his own practice. He had been exhausted by competition and the anxiety that intertwined itself with it. The first full meal he had eaten willingly had been at the restaurant . The alcohol was taking its toll. Viktor was old for his sport, but still very good at ignoring his body-- until it came to Yuuri. It would be hard to calm down from this with no relief —- but he had gone through worse. Viktor peeled off his own costume, before crawling into bed next to his mate.

Yuuri hated sleeping in anything less than shorts and one of Viktor’s t shirts in the summer, and three layers in the winter--- but that was a problem for Morning Viktor. Yuuri curled into him the moment he settled down, undisturbed by the blankets tugged from underneath him. Yuuri could sleep through a hurricane (and had before ).

Which is why, the next morning, Viktor started his morning without worrying about making too much noise.

By 9 am, Yuuri was still dead asleep, and Viktor had reached his threshold of patience for waiting. He hopped in a shower, formulating his plan for the day. He would go out and find breakfast for them-- treating Yuuri to a pastry and hot coffee with all the cream he wanted. After they ate, Yuuri would let Viktor wash his hair, and they could relax until they had to get dressed for the gala. It sounded perfect-- Viktor even found himself humming as he pulled on a heattech waffle shirt and jeans for his stint outside.

Viktor had his own suitcase-- only because he knew if he didn’t, he would run out of shirts, and the media would comment on the long sleeves on Olympic champion Yuuri Katsuki-Nikiforov… Which Viktor didn’t mind, but Yuuri definitely did--after the fact. Viktor slipped on Yuuri’s jacket-- which he always bought one size too big. It smelled like him-- something Viktor couldn’t describe beyond Yuuri and Home. Science called it pheromones, but Viktor called it a comfort.

 

_Getting Breakfast. See you soon, sleeping beauty <3_

  
Viktor tapped out a quick message on his phone, knowing Yuuri would go for his phone before he had the brain to get out of bed and look at the hotel stationary on the desk.

Forty minutes later, and Viktor returned, hands full with two paper cups and a paper bag…. And Yuuri nowhere to be found. Yuuri’s suitcase remained in the same place--next to Viktor’s empty one. Its entire contents sat on the bed in a round pile. At first it seemed random-- like someone had ransacked them-- before Viktor looked closer. His cashmere sweaters lined the innermost circle, and his Chanel coat lay carefully on top, as if not to be wrinkled. It moved gently, as if it was breathing.

“Yuuri?” Viktor set down breakfast, gently lifting the collar of his coat and peeking under it. Yuuri laid curled up beneath it, his nose buried in Viktor’s costume from the night before. “Are...are you alright?”

“Mph.” Yuuri mumbled into the fabric.

“Sorry? Yuuri, what--”

Yuuri lifted his head. “I’m hungry. And horny. Very, very horny.” He stared directly at Viktor, squinting without his glasses and full twelve hours of sleep.

“Oh.” Viktor squeaked. He gathered himself. “Yuuri, you could have called me.” He almost wanted to pout, but he could sense this wasn’t the time.

 

For one, Yuuri was sitting on at least ten thousand dollars of easily damaged brand

For two, he looked pitiful, laying in a nest of silk, cashmere and cotton.

For three… he smelled absolutely divine, and Viktor felt starved.

 

 

This was...new.

Viktor swallowed nervously. This felt dangerous — he’d felt helpless at Yuuri;s feet before , desperate for his touch and to touch him. But this felt stronger and more primal than he had ever felt before. It wasn’t the end of a good date , or the middle of a romantic moment. He wanted to push Yuuri into the nest of clothing and ravage him. He wanted to take Yuuri and feel him around himself, make him cry out until his insane stamina petered out and he turned into putty in his arms.

  
He smelled. So. Good.

 

“We can eat breakfast first .” Viktor cleared his throat , grabbing the bag with two pastries and a sandwich to share. Viktor usually didn’t eat until their shared lunch time, right after he ended his time with Yakov and before he began coaching Yuuri.

  
“Here,” Viktor pulled out a chocolate croissant. Yuuri immediately sat up, draped in Viktor;s coat, sinking his teeth into the flaky pastry. His teeth scraped Viktor's fingers and he ran his tongue tantalizingly against his skin.

 

“Yuuri —“Viktor purred. “You really are horny,Moya solnyshko.”

 

Yuuri blinked slowly and deliberately before licking a soft stripe up Viktor's hand.

Viktor shook.

  
And Yuuri pounced. He grabbed Viktor's shoulder and pulled him onto the bed , grinding his hips against Viktor’s hungrily.

  
“Get in me .” Yuuri growled into his ear, and Viktor felt too hot.

“Anything for you —" Viktor went to roll Yuuri over before he flinched — Yuuri kicked at him, pressing his hips harder against his.

  
“Not that .” Yuuris fingers dug into Viktors back.

Viktor drew back, and immediately regretted it once he saw the reaction on Yuuri’s face.

He lifted his arms, shrugging off his (Yuuri’s) coat and tugging off his shirt.

On some level, Viktor thought. He thought that this was bad-- it wasn’t like Yuuri. This was new, but an unsettling kind of new. Not the beginning of relationship jitters, or finding out what Yuuri liked in bed new. This was out of character, not-really-Yuuri new.

 

But that level was not where Viktor was putting his attention. He was watching Yuuri, and Yuuri’s hand slipping underneath the elastic band of his boxers. His breathing came hard--along with another part of his anatomy. His brain was foggy-- he’d never been so instantly turned on in his life.

Well, it wasn’t true-- he had choreographed Eros for a reason. But this felt vulgar, and all consuming, and--

 

Oh.

 

“Yuuri,” Viktor’s voice warbled as Yuuri twisted, drawing his hand out from himself and going to mouth at the fly of his jeans.

  
“Yuuri.” Viktor said more firmly, catching his head in his hands, holding his cheeks and making him look at him. Yuuri was flushed and lustful-- and a little dazed looking. “Where is your pill case?”

“In the bathroom.” Yuuri looked irritated already.

  
“No, not the anxiety one. The suppressants.” They had to be taken at night, while Yuuri’s anxiety meds kept him awake and were usually downed in the morning.

  
Yuuri blinked slowly before shrugging noncommittally. Viktor growled in frustration, letting go of Yuuri and digging through his suitcase. With a rattle, the plastic row of boxes fell onto the bed.

“Yuuri!” Viktor cried, exasperatedly. “It’s full!” He pulled a hand through his hair. “You haven’t taken it for two weeks?”

“No-- I, I maybe forgot today. But I-- we-- we’ve been busy. We even came here early.” Yuuri stuttered, fidgeting nervously. He seemed to shrink in the nest of clothing, small sad and anxious.

“Oh, Yuuri.” Viktor sighed, crawling into the nest. He smoothed Yuuri’s hair back and played with it until he relaxed enough to lay back. “You’re in heat.”

 

Being so close to him-- and his scent-- was making it even harder to concentrate.

  
“O...okay.” Yuuri breathed. “I...I’m sorry?”

  
“Oh, don’t be.” Viktor gasped, kissing the crown of Yuuri’s head. “I just.. Want you to know. I want you to be in control. You need to do what you want.” Viktor knew intimately that Yuuri’s anxiety spiked when he felt he lost control-- and that is what had felt so wrong.  
Yuuri’s warm fingers tucked into Viktor’s waistband. Viktor looked down, meeting Yuuri’s expectant and sweet gaze.

“Please.” Yuuri said, his voice small and vulnerable. Viktor softened, indulging himself with a kiss to Yuuri’s neck. He completely lost it, pushing off his pants and pressing Yuuri down into the nest. Yuuri wriggled out of the considerably smaller amount of clothing left separating them, before he hooked his legs around Viktor’s body.

Yuuri rode him until he came twice, exhausted and sweaty and ruined by his husband. The nest was surprisingly comfortable-- so long as Viktor didn’t think of the stains he’d have to pay to be rid of. Yuuri curled into his side with the bag of pastries, eating all three of the carbohydrate treats by himself. Viktor didn’t mind-- he watched Yuuri tear the croissant into pieces, and delighted in watching Yuuri’s fingers and lips move tantalizingly. He felt drenched in Yuuri’s scent, and it left him warm like a five stars restaurant’s top-shelf wine. He felt sated more than a pastry could do… Yuuri had done something to him-- even if it was solely being a slave to his own hormones.

“Yuuri.” Viktor sat up in bed, “Let’s take a bath?” Yuuri looked up from the coffee cup he was nursing. The remaining gel holding his hair back had wilted with the heat of sex, and his hair was messy, chunks of it falling into his eyes.  
Yuuri slid off the bed, setting his cup on the bedside table. He walked as if his hips were sore, and he stopped, running a hand down the inside of his leg.

“I’ll clean you up.” Viktor struggled to climb out of the middle of the nest after Yuuri. He felt another primal need-- now just for taking care of Yuuri. It was only a few centimeters difference, but Yuuri suddenly felt much smaller and delicate-- his small waist and his elegant hands. Viktor wanted to hold them, run water over them until Yuuri felt soft and fresh again and free of the frustration Viktor had inadvertently made him stew in.

“I miss the onsen.” Yuuri muttered as Viktor filled the tub with hot water. There was no comparison-- a hotel tub in Europe would not stand the chance. Viktor stopped the water early and took a washcloth from the counter. He gently scrubbed every inch of Yuuri’s body, scooping up water in the bowl of his hands. Yuuri's head leaned into Viktor’s hands as he massaged shampoo into his scalp , and he kissed Viktor’s thumb when he shielded Yuuri’s eyes from the rinsing pour of water. He pulled the plug before starting the faucet anew and climbing in to join Yuuri.  
Yuuri sighed in contentment, laying back and melting into Viktor’s body.

  
“Better?” Viktor laughed, and Yuuri nodded, sliding a foot up Viktor’s leg.

They dragged themselves out of the tub in enough time to sort through and organize the nest together. Their suits for the gala remained (thankfully) on their hangers in the closet. Viktor made a pile of clothing to be sent to the laundry service downstairs. There was no way he would be crossing international borders with his luggage in such a state. Viktor slipped into a pair of pajama pants that now smelled like Yuuri, wrapping himself in a hotel terry cloth robe. He folded the salvageble clothing from the bottom of the nest back into his suitcase, before finding Yuuri’s medal on the floor, fallen into the heel of an empty shoe.

“Yuuri.” Viktor hummed disapprovingly, looping it back around his neck. His husband had his glasses back on, and his hair was neatly combed. He looked perfectly ordinary-- and incredibly handsome. Viktor felt his breath hitch at the innocent questioning look Yuuri gave him, which quickly flickered to concern.

“Are you….?” Yuuri flushed-- his head was clearer now, which gave room for him to be embarrassed. Viktor had realized a year into their relationship that Yuuri’s tendency to flush at the smallest things last until their deathbeds-- even after the full unleashing of Eros.

“Turned on? Very. You have a strong effect on me, moya zvezda.” Viktor loved him  both naked and lusting on silk sheets and hiding behind his glasses in his 8 year old sweatpants.

“Like… normal Viktor swooning… or flying-across-the-world turned on?” Yuuri tilted his head to the side, a small smile curving his lips.

“The gala is going to be torture, I might be  take-you-behind-the-champagne-table turned on.” Viktor grinned, staring deep into his husbands eyes.

“We could… just stay here.” Yuuri said coyly.

“Ah. If it was just me, I would do it in a heartbeat. Yakov hasn’t scared me in years.” Yuuri's smile faded-- he was ready to be disappointed. “But I am a coach, of the Gold medalist. We have to go-- sweet talk the sponsors. Show them your face, before I get it all to myself.”

“Maybe dial it down when we talk to them…” Yuuri mumbled, taking a few steps until he could wrap his arms around Viktor.

“You talk like we haven’t done this before.” Viktor teased, playing with Yuuri’s hair lovingly.

“Not when we were horny.” Yuuri grumbled, giving him a look.

  
They left the topic at that, Viktor going to smooth product into his hair, and Yuuri doing his best to get into the sponsor-schmoozing mood. Yuuri let Viktor dress him, watching him in the mirror as he tied the tie for the suit Viktor had bought for him at the start of the season. Viktor unabashedly wore a coordinating one, though Yuuri still secretly thought Viktor wore it better. They arrived at the gala a fashionable five minutes late-- Yuri already poised at the head of the room, if still bitter about his bronze medal.

The first sponsor was when the trouble started.

  
Viktor felt a sharp stab of jealousy the second the man reached to shake Yuuri’s hands. He bit his tongue to keep from growling something indecent at the man. Yuuri didn’t notice, using his media smile and going through the motions. Viktor felt his smile twitch , the sponsor holding Yuuri's hands a beat too long.

Viktor tried to drown it, getting to three glasses of champagne before the edge wore off. But then he couldn’t focus on anything but the scent of Yuuri. He found excuses to get more of it — kissing Yuuri's ring , smoothing and fixing his hair and adjusting the medal he always made him wear.

But he lost it when his best friend crossed the room, Chris greeting Yuuri with his familiar butt-grab. Yuuri didn’t react as much anymore — the tips of his ears flushing with embarrassment , but his feet remaining firmly on the floor. Before Yuuri could say hello, Viktor had Chris by the collar, nose to nose-- his lips twisted in a snarl.

“Viktor!” Yuuri gasped , trying to push himself between them. Chris was cool, staring down at Viktor as if he expected it. Yuuri pushed again, and Viktor shoved Yuuri away, his grip tightening on Chris’ collar.

“Viktor, you’re making a scene.” Chris said calmly. “Get a hand on yourself. I’m not here to take Yuuri.”

The words barely processed in his mind, but it was enough for Viktor to drop Chris back onto his feet.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry —“ it was Viktor's turn to turn red with embarrassment. “I— I lost myself , I wasn’t thinking.”

Chris straightened his collar. “I knew you would be a mess, Viktor. You’re not the only one who can sense what is going on.”

Viktor looked like a deer in the headlights. “ W-what ?”

 

“ Honey, everyone can tell when an omega is in heat. “ Chris kept his voice low. “My mistake was forgetting your past.” Viktor was thankful he didn’t say inexperience.

“ it was an accident. We’ve been so focused on the competition , by the time we realized it was too—-“

 

“Things happen.” Chris cleared his throat. “I know you , Viktor. I skate because I enjoy competing with you. It is water beneath the bridge. For me—- but I think you should go tend to your husband."

  
Viktor looked back— Yuuri was gone. He saw a flash of his coat jacket at the doorway to the lobby. Viktor felt sick, bile and champagne rising in his throat.

“Yuur !” He called out as soon he was out of the gala ballroom. Yuuri ignored him , his head bowed and shoulders straight. Viktor ran to catch up with him, looping a hand around his waist.

“Yuuri, please.”

Yuuri twisted out of his grip, keeping his back to him.

“Go back to the gala.” His voice was forced to a flat even tone that still wobbled at the end.

“But, Yuuri. “ Viktor was at a loss. “I can’t without you. “

“It’s better I’m not there .” Yuuri said firmly.

  
“No, it’s not .” Viktor's voice started to shake. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking .”

“You’ve been acting weird all night !” Yuuri's voice rose as he threw up his hands. “You’ve been glaring at anyone who looks at me , and you keep touching and kissing me , and it’s not like you!”

“I like touching you.”

“But you’re doing it like I'm going to run after some other alpha the second you step away.” Yuuri turned to face him, anger and hurt burning in his eyes. “Like you don’t believe me when I say you’re the only one in the world for me .”

Yuuri's anger evaporated the second he saw the tears fall from Viktor's eyes. Viktor had been more in touch with emotions in their relationship , but it was still a rare occurrence. He knew happy tears more than he knew how to cry. Yuuri cried enough for the both of them.

“I do, Yuuri, I do. I… I just. You’re the first. “ Yuuri's Head tilted to the side , his concern turning to a questioning gaze.

“ I’ve never been in a … relationship. I had experiences , but nothing meant anything. Nothing could —-it was always just for release. I’ve never dealt with a heat or a rut , and you’ve been so good with taking care of it …” Viktor choked on the words. “I don’t know what to do with myself. It’s like April in Hasetsu all over again.”

Yuuri closed the distance between them, laying his cheek against Viktor's chest.

“If we leave , it will look bad .” He said softly , drawing soft circles on the curve of Viktor's back.

“I know.” Viktor sniffled.

“I’ll get some water .” Yuuri murmured.

“No. Just stay.”

 _“Water_ , and I’ll sit in your lap.” Yuuri said firmly before he left in search for a cup. He returned with a plastic glass of water and and a wad of damp paper towels from the bathroom. Viktor sat on the floor, next to a fake potted plant in a corner of the hotel. He let Yuuri dab at his face as he sat on his lap.

“I don’t want to go back.”

“We have to talk to Mizuno.”

“Everyone’s just going to say I’m two years overdue for retirement.” Viktor sighed.

“Money turns me on.” Yuuri said shortly , and Viktor burst out laughing. Yuuri was one the one who made sure they had money saved , and kept them to a weekly food budget. Viktor had more money than sense, and the charm to book sponsorships.

“Is that a promise ?” Viktor rubbed the back of his hand down the side of Your face and neck , trying to surround himself in his comforting scent.

“Maybe .” Yuuri said smoothly , lowering his gaze.

“I kind of like you in heat.” Viktor admitted , cupping Yuuri's face in his hands.

“Don’t get used to it. It’s torture.” Yuuri kissed Viktor's ring and closed his eyes.

* * *

 

Yuuri has just sat down on the edge of the bed to take off his shoes when Viktor pressed into him. Yuuri paused, looking up at Viktor before he fell back against the mattress.

  
“Don’t get anything on the suits. They’re expensive .” Yuuri said between a heated kiss , his loosened tie laying by his ear.

“That was your fault .” Viktor laughed , Yuuri's fingers pulling at his waistband. Viktor ignored the sparks of pain from sore muscles from the night before as he undressed Yuuri. He felt weak at the rise and fall of Yuuri's bare chest as he breathed.

“Wait ,” Yuuri pushed his hands away and slithered off the mattress onto the floor.

“Yuuri , I’m too old for that .” Viktor whined , turning to look behind him. “Come back—“ he dialed up the drama , turning to sit on the bed before the mischievous smile curved on Yuuri's lips. Yuuri undid the fly of his pants, pulling his member out and holding it in his palms as he licked the length of it.

 

“Oh.” Viktor's voice shook. He hadn’t needed help— he hadn’t needed it all night. But he felt undone already, his hands threading into Yuuri's hair as he took him into his mouth, sliding downward. Viktor could feel Your throat spasm around him— and almost shrunk back before Yuuri looking up at him from under heavy eyelashes. Viktor felt a bubble of pleasure float up inside him as Yuuri's tongue lapped against him.

“Yuuri- I’m going to--,” Viktor grimaced. It was too early , but he’d been tortured all night. Yuuri had stopped him from glaring by spending the rest of the night pressed into his side. He had kept his hand against Yuuri's side the whole night. They had danced together — a yearly tradition.

 

Viktor had been good. Really, really good.

 

Yuuri sputtered , choking it back as Viktor came in his mouth.

  
“Oh Yuuri, I tried to—“ Viktor took a towel from their earlier bath, pressing it to Yuuri's mouth.

  
Yuuri shook his head coughing as his Adam’s apple bobbed and he tried to swallow.

“Yuuri, please .” Viktor whined. He had never done that before — he had given head before , of course, but with awkward conversation and gentle coaching.

He had never swallowed before —and it showed.

 

“I wanted to.” His voice was hoarse from the long night and new attempt. He looked up at Viktor , his eyes shining and cheeks flushed.

“I want to do something for you.” Viktor smoothed Yuuri's hair back, playing with a longer lock of hair.

“You always are.”

“Something new .” Viktor stroked the side of Yuuri's neck. “Come here .”

“I’m old, Viktor. .” Yuuri teased softly , climbing onto the bed. “Old, and I’m still horny, and I’m really tired. We talked to too many people .” He leaned into Viktor, resting his chin on his shoulder.

“Let’s take it slow then.” Viktor snaked his arm around Yuuri. “Let’s just lay together.”

 

“That’s not something new .” Yuuri didn’t sound quite disappointed so much as tired.

“I know. Lay down .” Yuuri did as Viktor asked , pulling the three pillows he slept with every night closer to him.

“Viktor ?”

  
Viktor stopped in mid movement , just above Yuuri.

“I don’t want you to… “

Viktor pursed his lips , confused and waiting. “To what ?”

Yuuri flushed a deeper tone. “I want to see your face. Up here.”

He gestured toward his own face.

“I know.” Viktor smoothed a hand down Yuuri's thigh. “Open for me, please .”

  
Viktor rubbed the head of his penis against Yuuri's entrance before pressing into him. Yuuri gasped , but remained pliant as Biktor pushed into him and settled down into the bed with slow and deliberate movements. Viktor held Yuuri;s hips against his as they shifted onto their sides.

“What shall we do tomorrow , kitten?”Viktor hummed , tracing the shell of Yuuri;s ear with a free hand.

 

“Sleep.” Yuuri murmured, sucking in a quick breath with every small and slow movement Viktor made.

 

“We have our flight home.” Viktor murmured , and Yuuri made a displeased grunting noise.

“It’s only ten hours this time , I promise. “ Viktor felt Yuuri tighten around him, a happy sigh escaping from his lips.

“I’d rather do this .”

  
“ You told me being in heat was torture.”

“It is. Until you help me .” Yuuri closed his eyes , his hands finding Viktors chest , craving for contact.

* * *

 

“Viktor, give me the credit card .” Yuuri muttered through his flu mask . They were on their second flight (on Aeroflot) — back to St. Petersburg.

“For what ?” Viktor looked up from his novel.

“I need to look something up.” Viktor pulled out his black signature card and held it out to Yuuri. He watched as he paid the fee for the in-flight WiFi , his eyebrows raising as he saw what Yuuri typed into Safari.

“ I thought this morning helped .” Viktor murmured, heart sinking a little at Yuuri's stricken look.

“ Two to four weeks , Viktor.” Yuuri hissed. “We can’t do that. “

“I don’t mind.” Viktor flashed a smile at Yuuri's sour look.

“You have Russian nationals, the same week I have to go to Nagoya.”

Viktors smile faltered. “Let’s retire.”

“Do you have the paperwork ?” Yuuri said lightly, and Viktor rolled his eyes. “You’re coaching Yuri through it. And I have the shoot at Mizuno.” Yuuri continued.

“What do you want to do about it ?” Viktor's tone came out a bit shorter than he had meant it to be. “Get some toys ?”

“No.” Yuuri fell silent afterward , opening a mobile game and focusing on that instead.

 

“Yuuri.” Viktor spoke up a few minutes later. “Let’s go to the bathroom?”

“Get some toys.” Yuuri bit out, not lifting his gaze from the phone.

 

Viktor felt wounded, but dropped it. Twenty minutes later, Yuuri laid his hand on Viktor’s wrist. Viktor looked up from his book into Yuuri’s pleading gaze.

  
“ _I’m sorry_ ,” Yuuri murmured in his native language. “ _I’m just...tired. We can go now._ ” He kept his voice low, even though the likelihood of a Japanese speaker on their trans-european flight was slim. Viktor slid his bookmark into place, saying nothing. As if Yuuri knew he would hesitate, he slid his hand up Viktor’s arm.

 _“I need you inside me more than anything. I want y-your._ ” Yuuri always stuttered when he tried to talk dirty. He was always much better at actions than words-- whether they romantic or sexual.

Viktor cupped Yuuri’s warm cheek in his hand, his lips brushing Yuuri’s ears as he whispered into it. _“We’ll have to be quiet, kitten._ ”

Yuuri’s mouth twisted with nerves as he pulled open his seatbelt. He stood up, using the cramped quarters to his benefit , pushing his butt against Viktor as he pretended to trip over the blanket they always brought with them on trips.

Viktor waited a full sixty seconds before going down the main aisle after Yuuri. He knocked twice, before the door folded open an inch.

  
Viktor slipped in, his heart beating a mile a minute. They barely had enough room to move with the both of them.. Yuuri had already unbuttoned and shed his jeans, sitting on the small  counter in his boxers and socks (Which, while from the same brand, did not match.)

  
“How--?” Yuuri whispered hoarsely. There wasn’t any room for Yuuri to bend over, forget there being enough to suck Viktor off and get him hard.

“It won’t take long, I promise.” Viktor started  unbuttoning his slacks

  
“The condom?” Yuuri whispered, his hand slick and shiny. Viktor stopped, rustling in his pockets for an awkward moment.

  
He came up with nothing.

  
“Oh well,We tried---” Viktor sighed, going to put himself together again when Yuuri’s hand stopped him.

Yuuri pulled Viktor out of his thong, sliding his hand down his entire length frantically. Viktor swallowed-- the pure exhibition of it all, coupled with Yuuri’s touch and smell made him hard in an instant.

Yuuri held him, rubbing his thumb over the head in soft circles.  Viktor pushed Yuuri up off the counter up onto his hips, adjusting his angle and pushing aside fabric before he slid himself into Yuuri. Yuuri let out a soft gasp, arching his back and smacking the back of his head against the plastic wall of the bathroom. Viktor wanted more of it-- louder-- but he also didn’t feel like getting arrested in his home country.

He thrust into Yuuri, who bucked back into him, his legs curling around and hooking behind Viktor’s back. Yuuri bit back a cry of pleasure, before, in a fluid forward movement, he snagged Viktor’s sweater in his teeth, The fabric muffled the cry, but Viktor could feel it vibrate in his bones and make every cell of his sing. The close quarters made him feel like he was drowning in Yuuri’s scent. The ache in his back was worth it for every thrust. He could feel how wet Yuuri was-- and the last logical part of his brain was thankful they only had an hour left in flight.

Yuuri came first, and the shaking and squirming on top of him made Viktor a close second. Viktor settled Yuuri back on the counter, pulling a paper towel out to clean himself up. They would both need to hide under their travel blanket-- but the pleasure pumping through his body washed away any embarrassment. Yuuri clung to him, whimpering when Viktor peeled himself away from him so he could leave first.

Viktor was ready when Yuuri hobbled back, the armrest pushed back and the blanket held up for him. Yuuri immediately edged into his side, nuzzling his neck affectionately as he settled into his side. It was times like these Viktor wished he could talk to his past self-- the one who had waited patiently, feeling hollow and unsure what was going to happen. Not necessarily the details-- but the loving feeling of Yuuri openly pushing himself against Viktor in public, of rubbing his neck and wrists against his with a soft but wanton touch. Even that Yuuri would lie pressed into his side, relaxed and soft and warm. Because he would know that it was Yuuri’s love.

 

They arrived home late- Makkachin already walked by the hired help, and happy to see them home. Viktor fluttered about-- Yuuri had been too tired for a shared shower, and so he waited.      Usually he would play on his phone, or finish a book-- but not tonight. He had the urge to decorate.

 

He pulled out their two newest medals and hung them on the bedroom mirror. He pulled out all the blankets he had from his linen closet and piled them onto the bed. He pulled out Yuuri’s landmark GPF Silver from it’s shadow box and hung it up, before pulling out his box of medals from the closet.

“Vitya...what are you doing?” Viktor heard Yuuri’s voice before he realized he was out of the shower. Sadly, he was already dressed too-- in the soft fuzzy fleece room-wear set Hiroko had sent from Japan. Viktor had a matching pair, but rarely wore it-- or anything to bed.

  
“Uh…” Viktor blinked, looking across the room. Medals were draped across every available surface and hung from every corner.  
“I…am not sure.” Viktor blinked, touching his chin as he turned to look at the room.

“It looks… like you are decorating.” Yuuri said carefully, crawling into the blanket nest. “And nesting. Are you okay?”

“Amazing.” Viktor affirmed, frowning.”Why?”

“Just in case you’re...frustrated.” Yuuri said, peeking from behind a particularly tall pile of blankets.

“I don’t think I have it in me for a fifth time today, kitten.” Viktor stretched. “I’m not even washed from the last time."

 

“Why are you only calling me _kotyonok_ lately?” Yuuri mumbled, his tone saying he was more curious than irritating.

“I always use sweet names with you, sweetheart.” Viktor paused, his traveling clothes on the floor. “Should I stop?”

“No.” Yuuri said instantly. “I just…. You used to only say it… during special times..”

Viktor smiled. “Well, I would say this week has been special, _starlight_.”

 

Yuuri made a noise somewhere between annoyed and embarrassed,  and buriedhis face in the blankets.

It was the last sound he made before the next morning, when Yuuri awoke with a startled yell.

 

Viktor appeared immediately in the doorway, a poodle coffee mug cradled in his hand. “Everything alright?”

“Makka was laying on my chest, staring into my eyes.” Yuuri sounded embarrassed, and Makkachin wagged her tail from her perch on top of Yuuri.

“Huh.” Viktor took a sip of his coffee. “We just went out. She usually only does that when I trained too hard. Maybe you’re sick?”

“I feel fine. Well. Mostly fine.” Yuuri muttered. He still felt incredibly lustful (a slightly better word than horny) and his hips ached, but he was healthy otherwise.

“She probably missed you. She knows nationals is coming up.” Viktor quipped, before returning to the kitchen to pour Yuuri a cup.

 

* * *

 

Parting at the airport was hard. Viktor had to go to the domestic terminal, while Yuuri had to go through international. This year’s competitions did not even afford them a layover connection in Russia together. They checked their baggage, hesitating before security. They decided to wrap themselves around each other instead.

Yuuri was especially clingy-- his flight was longer, and would put them several time zones off from each other. They eventually only parted due to Viktor’s newest student-- Yuri’s short quips. Viktor wrestled out of his sweater, handing it to Yuuri as a consolation prize as they left him at the gate.

Viktor regretted not leaving more when his husband's photo lit up his phone screen at 2 am local time  the day Japanese Nationals were due to start. It was later where Yuuri was-- which was worrying. Yuuri was careful, and if he was waiting until now, it meant he had reached his own capacity to handle it on his own.

“ _Yuuri_.” Viktor breathed his name, just knowing it would ground both of them. There was a moment of silence-- one where Viktor panicked, imagining a car crash or paramedic dialing him from countries away. His heart didn’t settle at the shaky breath he instantly recognized.

  
“I can’t do it, Viktor, I can’t.” Yuuri wailed, his voice shaking and hoarse from an hour of fighting the panic attack.

“You can, Yuuri, you can. You could do it in your sleep, it’s only nationals, love.” Viktor cooed.

“No, I can’t.” Yuuri bit out. Viktor was silent. He knew that just the act of being on the line was enough for Yuuri, so he bit his lip.

“I thought it would be fun, but it’s not. I can’t concentrate, and you’re not here. I just have your stupid sweater, and it’s not enough.” Yuuri’s voice was strained.  
“Please, I can’t go on the ice and embarrass you.”

“I’ll call the JSF and tell them you decided to be seeded through.” Viktor hummed.

He had been proud when they had talked about it months earlier-- Yuuri, as a multiple GPF and Olympic champion-- really didn’t need to prove himself at regional or even national levels. But he had decided to do it-- just for fun. It was a huge moment for him, to be able to overcome his anxiety of competitions… and all that was gone.

  
“Minami deserves it  more anyway.” Yuuri whimpered, another sob wracking his body.

 

“Yuuri.” Viktor murmured. “Can you use your hand?”

  
Yuuri’s breath shook before he could calm enough to answer. “...Yeah. Why?”

  
“Close your eyes. Can you smell me?”

  
“Sort of.” Yuuri sniffled “It--”

“Shhh.” Viktor twisted in bed, transferring his phone to his other hand. “I want to touch you, is that okay?”

Yuuri made a noise-- Viktor knew he was doubting him already.

 

“Tell me.” Viktor said firmly. If he kept at it, Yuuri would accept it too. If it was normal for Viktor, Yuuri would do it.

“You’re not here.”

“Which is why you’re going to use your hand and listen to me. We’ll do it together.” Viktor closed his eyes, imaging Yuuri closer to him than he really was. “I’m going to slide my hand under your waistband. How hard are you?”

“Half.” Yuuri squeaked, barely audible over the phone line. “I already tried. It doesn’t help. It’s not you.”

“Good. Because I like feeling you.” Viktor felt his own skin flush--it was harder to pretend to be suave without a face to read reactions off of. “I’m going to paw at you. I’ll start with one finger, okay? Slowly.” Viktor coached-- what he did best. He could imagine Yuuri going it, his hand shaking and unsure, but utterly dedicated to following Viktor’s every command.

“Okay.” Yuuri’s voice was evening out. “What next?” He breathed.

“Two fingers. Go deep.”

“No, three. You’re three.” Yuuri corrected him, and Viktor purred in proud satisfaction.

  
“Oh, I am? So flattering, kitten.” He purred. He could hear Yuuri’s breath catch.

 

“Press up, darling. I love pressing up. It makes you squirm so much. I love the way your face looks.” Viktor felt heat rise in his stomach as Yuuri’s sounds rang into his ear, muffled by distance.

“I--I need you h-here,” Yuuri gasped.

“You’re so good, Yuuri. You are doing so good. It’s only two days, darling.” Viktor soothed, his hand reaching down to touch himself.

“I can’t. Please.” Viktor’s heart wrung at the words. He wanted to-- he’d done it before-- but he was overdue for retirement, and he wasn’t even here for himself. He was at nationals for Yuri, and the rest of Yakov’s students that would be his soon. Now Yuuri was there to cheer on his biggest fan, to appear in his home country where everyone adored him. They weren’t lovesick partners scrambling to win--they were figureheads of their sport. This was their duty.

“ _Vitya_.” Yuuri whined.

“Yuuri, you can do it. You’ve done two weeks, it’s almost done.” Viktor’s mind went fuzzy, his hands moving and his mind going to their past two weeks together. It was exhausting and exhilarating all at once-- and Viktor couldn’t imagine Yuuri missing his medication ever again. Not until retirement-- like they had planned.

Viktor listened to Yuuri orgasm, his hand going still as he imagined his mate, there with him. “We really should have gotten you some toys.”

“Not--as good--” Yuuri panted, as stubborn as ever.

“I love you,” Viktor murmured, finally earning a happy noise from the speaker.

 

“I love you most.” Yuuri mimicked him, and they  asleep on the phone together.


	2. Before

Three things cannot be long hidden: the sun, the moon, and the truth.   
Buddha  
“Did you miss me girl?” Yuuri knelt down, yet again, smooshing Makkachin’s cheeks in his hands. He had just arrived home, freshly returned from his trip to Japan. Minami had taken first, and Yuuri had calmed down enough to make a semi-coherent speech about the Next Generation to the media. He had still counted down the hours, still bounced from foot to foot as he waited in Customs lines. He had almost forgotten to step into the Permanent Resident line, before he remembered, and his heart started beating fast. He used the adrenaline building in his system at the idea of Victor to run through the hallway to baggage claim, weaving between anyone who dared to walk slower than he did.

Viktor opened his arms up the moment he saw Yuuri, and they crashed together. Viktor hugged him so tightly that he couldn’t breath. He nuzzled him rubbing his body against Yuuri’s, rubbing his wrists against the skin of Yuuri’s neck before pulling his chin up for a long and tender kiss. Yuuri grabbed the back of Viktor’s head the second he drew back, dragging his teeth against Viktor’s bottom lip as if he could get more of the taste of him.

“Welcome back, starlight.” Viktor laughed as Yuuri panted, out of breath. He rested his head on Viktor’s chest, drinking in the scent of his husband. They dipped into the bathroom together, tightly pressed into a corner of the largest stall they could find.  
Viktor paused, his hands on Yuuri’s sweatpants, pulled just low enough to expose his thighs.

“You smell different…” Viktor mused, his thumbs pressed into the skin on each of Viktor’s hips.

“I just spent sixteen hours on a plane, Viktor.” Yuuri bit out.

“No… Not that.” Viktor leaned in, pressing his nose into Yuuri’s neck.

Yuuri stiffened, pushing Viktor away. “Do you really think I’d do something like that?” He bit into his bottom lip to keep it from quivering. Viktor’s head snapped up-- Yuuri’s dry lips, neglected by him, cracked and bled easily.

“Not that. No, never.” Viktor gasped, rubbing his thumb across Yuuri’s bottom lip. “You’re you… just… sweeter.”

Yuuri grunted in exasperation. “Stop scaring me and do it. My luggage will be on the carousel any minute now.”  
“ Have we lost the romance now? I see why suppressants are so popular now.” Viktor pouted.

“We stopped the romantic part the twentieth time , Vitya. How romantic is an airplane toilet?”  
“It’s the actors, not the scene that make the theatre.” Viktor counted, smiling as Yuuri rolled his eyes, and then his hips into him.  
They left the airport with tousled hair and enough satisfaction to last until they got home.

Home, where Makkachin followed Yuuri’s every step. She followed him to the bathroom, the kitchen, and even onto the bed.. She stared unblinkingly at him, her tail wagging a soft beat. Viktor shrugged it off-- she had merely missed her daddy, he said. But the strange behavior continued into the next day, and then the next week.  
Viktor tried not to feel insulted when he woke up to see Makkachin playing vigil on Yuuri’s side of the bed. He tried not to worry when google came up with stories of cancer-sniffing dogs. Yuuri refused a second physical-- even though Viktor scheduled it, and it meant calling the office and speaking them in Russian to cancel. 

Viktor worried.

And Viktor felt vindicated the Wednesday afternoon his phone-- which he now stupidly carried with him on the ice-- rang in his pocket.

“Good morning sweetheart, running late?” Viktor sang. He hadn’t realized it, but it was half an hour past their usual lunch time.

“You need to come home.” Yuuri’s voice was small and tear-stained. Viktor felt his chest tighten-- Yuuri had been particularly sleepy when Viktor had went to kiss him goodbye that morning. It was entirely plausible that Yuuri had neglected to clue Viktor into something yet again, and he was in the midst of another panic attack.

“I’ll be there in six minutes.” Viktor cupped his phone closer to his cheek, but the line cut off. He didn’t take the time to pack his skates away, instead sliding on his street shoes and running out the door. He left without an explanation to his coach or skating family, running through each red light signal he could beat. He opened the door to find Yuuri wrapped around Makkachin in the middle of the living room.

“Yuuri! Are you hurt?” Viktor sprinted inside without taking off his shoes, wrapping his arms around both members of his family. He could feel Yuuri’s heart beat through his back, his pulse high and just as panicked as his expression. “What’s wrong?”

Yuuri looked up into Viktor’s eyes, tortuously silent. Viktor waited a beat, letting Yuuri gather his words. He was about to lift Yuuri into his arms and go to the hospital when Yuuri’s voice cracked.

“I’m pregnant.”

Viktor sunk back to the floor. “Huh?” He said, automatically, before it clicked. He lit up, smiling brightly. He weaved his fingers into Yuuri’s hands, pulling them out of Makkachin’s fur. “Say it again.”

“I’m pregnant.” Yuuri’s voice broke again, his expression twisting from fear to confusion. He hiccuped.

“How do you know?” Viktor’s smile faded a fraction. He had imagined it differently-- waiting for the test together, retired and happy and perfectly planned.

“I, I threw up after you left… and it just occurred to me, and I couldn’t get the thought out of my mind--” The words poured out of Yuuri almost too quickly to process. “I went to the drug store, and I don’t know what I expected, and I… I called you.”

“Yuuri.” Viktor said shortly. “I wish you would stop deciding things for yourself. I was only six minutes away.” 

Yuuri bowed his head in shame. Viktor stood up, crossing the small distance to the master bathroom. 

“Really Yuuri, tell me.” Viktor said, trying to be softer this time. “You didn’t even get a good one.” He picked up the box, flipping it back to check how the results displayed.

“Just because it’s store brand doesn’t mean it’s bad.” Yuuri snapped. Their arguments were always over foolish, small things. Name brands and values, the money they needed to spend and the money Viktor wanted to spoil Yuuri with.

“I’m sorry. I just wanted to be here.” Viktor stared at the test-- a clear, dark positive, still sitting on the counter. He crept back into the living room, pulling Yuuri into a hug.

“I’m sorry. “ Yuuri broke down, fresh tears streaming down his cheeks.

“Whatever for, starlight? This is amazing. We’re pregnant.” Viktor breathed, taking Yuuri’s hand in his. He pressed comforting kisses to Yuuri’s neck. He didn’t shy away-- good news for both of them.

“We’re not retired.” Yuuri whimpered. Their entire plan-- and hard conversation-- thrown entirely out of the window. “I didn’t break your Grand Prix record.”

“I was already pushing retirement when I met you, my love.” Viktor hummed into Yuuri’s skin. He relaxed at that-- not much, but a little at least. “It’s time I’ve retired. It’s the perfect excuse. We’d never retire otherwise.”

Yuuri smiled-- just a flash, melting bonelessly into Viktor. “Is that so bad?

“...No, but I’ve dreamed about making a family with you.” Viktor hugged Yuuri’s middle to his own, his hands spreading over Yuuri’s stomach. “I’m so excited.

“I should have waited…” Yuuri mumbled, the remnants of the panic attack still pulling at him.

“Do over?” Viktor pressed a kiss to Yuuri’s cheek. “Yuuri.” His tone turned to put-upon, a bad actors over-enunciation. “I’ve noticed that Makkachin is giving you extra attention… and you smell really….really good. I think we need to check to see if you are… with child.” Viktor said with a flourish. Yuuri giggled.

“Don’t be embarrassing.” He whispered, wiping the remaining tears off his cheeks. “We need to go to the drug store. Can you make sure we get the best test?”

Viktor nodded, unable to hold back a smile. He made sure to wrap Yuuri is one of his own coats, and he took one of Yuuri’s as well. He didn’t need Yuuri’s scent to feel better-- the mere sight of seeing Yuuri press the slightly-too-long sleeves against his nose as they walked together was enough to make him feel warm. 

They picked up a nearly 2,000 ruble pregnancy test at the store-- along with a bottle of juice Yuuri drank on their way to their favorite cafe . Yuuri hesitated at the counter-- before Viktor interrupted, placing his hand on top of Yuuri’s.

“It’s late in the afternoon--we better get it decaf. Extra caramel, though. Please.” He told the barista, smiling brightly.

Yuuri’s hands shook slightly when he cradled the coffee mug in them, savoring the frothy topping. Before Yuuri had moved to St. Petersburg, this had just been another store in his neighborhood to Viktor. It had taken one trip-- during a promised cheat day-- for Yuuri to make him fall in love with it. Viktor had always had drip coffee-- or the basic espresso in Italy. Yuuri gave him life, love and caramel macchiatos. He could still remember the look of pleasure on Yuuri’s face during his first sip. The pure joy at the shop speciality-- latte art. Viktor loved the poodles and ice skates drawn on top of their coffees even more than Yuuri did. One season Viktor overhauled their entire diet plan to allow for a weekly treat-- and a daily one during their hardest times.

Now… he could picture even more visits. He could see Yuuri’s stomach growing larger and rounder in the warm woodsy cafe. He could imagine Yuuri crawling on the carpet in the corner, pushing the wooden toy train to a small child with cinnamon colored hair.

“Viktor?”

He snapped out of his reverie at Yuuri’s touch. He rested his hand on top of Viktor’s staring at him in concern.

“Hmm?” Viktor smiled, feeling lovestruck. He hoped their baby took after Yuuri. Mari had shown him baby pictures, doing her best job to embarrass her little brother. It had only made Viktor long for more with Yuuri. He remembered his own childhood-- and how he had lost his baby-fat early… he had been born lithe and small. He wanted fat cheeks to pinch and round bellies to pat. He wanted the perfect softness and weight of health to tire his arms. Yuuri would always complain about gaining weight easily, but Viktor made it clear he loved Yuuri’s body mid-season or off. And a baby with Yuuri’s soft, round face….

“You...look kind of weird.” Yuuri continued, rubbing his fingers on the back of Viktor’s hand.

Viktor laughed. “Oh. Well, I was just thinking about our family.” He blinked, feeling a sudden well of emotion in his chest.

“Yeah, I guess we need to tell my mom, and Yakov too..” Yuuri took another sip of his coffee.

“No, silly. Us.”

Yuuri froze, his eyes wide in realization over the lip of the mug. “I thought we were still pretending--”

“I’m a bad actor, okay? Maybe it’s… hormones.”

Yuuri snorted, bowing his head and wiping foam off of his mouth. “It’s too early for that.”

“Maybe I’m just utterly- totally head over heels for you.”

“You are.” Yuuri smiled shyly. “But not anymore than I am for you.” He added, his eyes sparkling. “Let’s go home?”

~

Viktor held Yuuri against him, hugging him tight as they watched the window of the pregnancy test, propped up in a cup on the bathroom counter. Even Makkachin had joined them-- as she had with Yuuri ever since his return from Japan. She pressed her nose into Yuuri’s palm, staring expectantly up at the two.

She wagged her tail when Viktor jumped , yelling joyously and much too loud for the bathroom, punching the air and gathering Yuuri against him for a passionate kiss. The tiny digital screen displayed positive even before the timer was up, and it took longer for Yuuri to process it yet again. He moved like a ragdoll, feeling Viktor’s lips against his before he broke out into a smile. Tears sprang to his eyes again-- this time, happy tears rolling down his cheeks. “We’re going to have a baby!” He wailed. 

“We’re going to have a baby!” Viktor cheered, picking up Yuuri around his thighs and spinning a tight circle in the bathroom. Makkachin barked, climbing up Viktor’s legs to paw at Yuuri, her tongue lolling out happily.

~  
“You’re in no condition to go out on the ice.” Viktor retorted coldly.

“You can’t even tell I’m pregnant yet, Viktor. There’s nothing to hurt.” Yuuri was dressed in his practice jersey, brushing his teeth for the third time that morning. He hadn’t managed to leave the bedroom, or keep down the well-meaning blini Viktor had cooked him.

“One fall and you could dislodge something.” Viktor could see Yuuri’s teeth clench around his toothbrush.

“You’re the one that fell last season.” Yuuri muttered.

His body hadn’t begun to change, but Yuuri had. Makkachin kept up her close vigil, comforting Yuuri when he lost a meal to nausea. She still slept on the bed-- an amazing feat. Viktor had came home from a quick trip to the store to find his favorite parts of his wardrobe on the bed, woven next to the three new blankets he had bought on a whim since finding out about Yuuri’s pregnancy. Yuuri’s tolerances changed daily, and Viktor had to remind himself that if it was exhausting for him, it was worse for his husband.

“No jumps. Coaches orders.” Viktor knew he wouldn’t win this fight. He didn’t want to. He didn’t want to keep Yuuri off the ice, the one thing in their lives that had brought them together.

“Singles?” Yuuri wasn’t even trying, but just by looking at him, he won Viktor over.

“Singles...are okay. Just break them up, okay? If I see you trying a quad, I’m tying you to the bed.”

Yuuri finally looked happy, crossing the room to nuzzle Viktor. “You’re not the only one worrying, you know.”

Viktor sighed, holding Yuuri close. Mint overpowered his smell, intermingling with their shampoo. Despite not being far along enough to show, Yuuri had already started exclusively wearing Viktor’s clothes. They hung looser and longer on him, cuffs ending at his knuckles instead of his wrists. He looked cozy-- and owned, which made Viktor feel better about the double loads of laundry they did.

“When do we get to tell everyone?”

“One more week.” Yuuri said into Viktor’s shirt. They already knew the tests were right-- confirmed by a doctor. Then they had mentioned the risk of miscarriage early in the pregnancy. After a very difficult night, Viktor agreed to wait until they were out of the riskiest time before announcing it. Makkachin followed them to the rink and any errands-- her apparent vigil convincing Yuuri that she would tell them if anything went wrong.

“That’s barely anything--”

“Stop.” Yuuri pressed a finger to Viktor’s lips. “A lot happens in a week for babies. If you can handle Nationals week, you can handle this week.” He ended his sentence with a kiss, just to make sure Viktor knew he meant well.

“Neither of us really handled Nationals well. Ever.” Viktor mumbled. In fact, Nationals could be the reason why they were talking about pregnancy in the first place. 

“Ready to go, sweet girl? Yes? Walkies?” Yuuri cooed, Makkachin dancing around them excitedly.

Viktor had the perfect idea.

The hardest part was waiting the whole week. The morning of the final day, Viktor got up. He stayed away from the kitchen, only tip-toeing into the bathroom to fix his hair. Makkachin was in position when he crawled back into bed, sandwiched between them.

“Yuuri… Smile.” Viktor cooed, brushing his hair back. He smoothed Yuuri’s bedhead down at his eyes blinked sleepily open. He looked perfectly dreamy when Viktor snapped the shot on his phone. Yuuri grunted at the noise of the shutter, his eyes sliding shut and arm moving to rest on Viktor’s side.

It was perfect. He had taken a few just in case, but the first one he loved the most. Makkachin was staring at Yuuri, just as lovingly as Viktor was. He opened Instagram, flipping to his favorite filter before typing in his caption.

V-nikiforov_katsuki: and baby makes four.

There were 500 likes in the ten minutes before Yuuri woke up fully. Viktor could see that Phichit had texted five times before Yuuri even touched his phone.

Yuuri yawned, sliding his glasses on and pushing them up his nose. He spoke before he even unlocked his phone.

“This is why I told my mom and dad when we found out.” He murmured sleepily, sinking back into the nest of pillows.

“You know me so well, starlight.” Viktor cooed, crawling onto his knees to place a kiss on Yuuri’s lips.

By the time they sat down for lunch, Viktor was dual-wielding both his and Yuuri’s phone. Viktor handled calls from sponsors and sports magazines. Both Vogue Japan and Russia called,sending congratulations and interest in maternity shoots. Mizuno already had approval for Yuuri to model their Baby & Me workout line for the next season.  
The happy news drowned out the negative press-- or rather, the negative reaction to the press releases from the Japanese and Russian skating federations announcing the simultaneous retirement of two of skating’s biggest stars.

“Phichit says we should have just posted a picture of our skates with a pair of baby shoes.” Yuuri muttered, poking at his plate of cut fruit.

“Oh! We should! We should get some baby skates!” Viktor cooed, immediately opening up Google on his iphone.

“I don’t think they make them for babies. On account of babies, you know, not knowing how to walk.”

“You’re so grumpy, Yuuri.” Viktor smiled lovingly.

~~  
“You are so beautiful, my Yuuri.” Viktor hummed, running his hand through his husbands hair. Yuuri was limp against him, dozing as they sat in the waiting room of the maternity clinic. Viktor couldn’t remember the last time eating wasn’t trouble for them, or even how Yuuri smelled without mouthwash mint on his breath. Yuuri looked beautiful even huddled next to the toilet or curled up on the bed with a heating pad. His hair was thick and shiny, healthy looking enough to spark a little jealousy in Viktor.

They were about to find out the gender of their baby. Viktor was hoping for a girl-- Yuuri didn’t seem to mind either way, as long as the heartbeat they saw weeks ago remained strong.

Viktor kept a hand on Yuuri’s back when they were called in, rubbing deep into the muscle and earning a happy sound from Yuuri as they walked in to the ultrasound room. Viktor loved it when he caught Yuuri without a oversized shirt or the doctor pulled it up. He was just starting to show, a soft roundness to his belly that Viktor loved, but Yuuri was still self-conscious about. It would be another week or two until it was obvious he was pregnant, but to Viktor, who knew Yuuri’s body intimately, he could tell already. He could see the slight swell no matter what Yuuri wore, and he often caught Yuuri absent-mindedly rubbing his stomach.

“No instagram.” Yuuri yawned, waking up a bit more at the cold squirt of jelly onto the skin of his stomach. He watched the screen-- his eyes sparkling despite his grumpy demeanor.

“Here’s the baby…” The tech focused onto the grainy image, and Viktor felt his heart beat faster. “And?”

 

“And… uh, hmmm..”

Yuuri immediately looked worried as the wand was moved over his skin. He silently panicked before the wand stopped. “Here is… baby two?” The tech stopped, flipping open their chart.

“What.” Yuuri snapped, stunned.

“We’re having twins?” Viktor gasped, delighted. He caught Yuuri’s shock and ire with his camera.

“Well…” The tech went silent, scanning over Yuuri’s belly again for several minutes. “I wouldn’t say they are twins until we have further testing done.”

“What do you mean?” Yuuri’s voice came quickly and rushed. “Viktor, what is she saying? Not twins? Are they okay?”

The Russian didn’t make any more sense to Viktor than it did to Yuuri.

“Um… Can you elaborate? The last scan said the baby was healthy.”

The technician paused, taking a screenshot. “Well. There is a phenomenon.. It's slightly more common in couples that conceived during a heat.”

“What’s wrong with my babies?” Yuuri interrupted, his voice strained.

“Oh, nothing darling. It just looks… Well, it’s called superfetation.. But in layman’s terms, you were impregnated twice. Which would explain why the development of Baby Two is several weeks behind Baby One…”

Viktor stared at the ultrasound screen, then glanced at his husband. He pushed forward, pulling Yuuri’s hand out of his mouth and squeezing it.

“Are the babies okay?” Viktor said, more forcefully.

“As far as I can tell, yes. The doctor can order more testing to rule out any other possibilities. The biggest difference in this kind of multiple pregnancy is to try to give the second baby as much time in the womb as possible. I’ve seen a lot of omegas on bedrest near the end of their pregnancy.”

 

“I’ll stay in bed the whole time!” Yuuri bit out, going to bite at the nails of his other hand.

“Shh, Yuuri. Its okay, this is great. Two! Two babies!” Viktor kissed Yuuri’s wedding ring.

“Baby one is female. It’s too early for Baby two, and I can’t promise anything there. “ The tech traced the outline of the separate amniotic sac. “Congratulations”

They walked out together, Yuuri holding his hands over his stomach in stunned silence. Tears rolled down his cheeks, remainders of the panic attack Viktor had tried to stave off.   
Viktor kissed Yuuri’s cheek every third step.

“I’m so proud of you,” He said with one kiss

“A girl! A beautiful princess,” He hummed into Yuuri’s cheek.

“I hope they have your hair.” Viktor said with another kiss as they got into the car.

“What? No way.” Yuuri laughed cynically. “I want them to look like you.”

Viktor laughed. “Why?”

“Because you’re perfect.”

“Spoken like a true fan,” Viktor teased, his heart swelling when Yuuri flashed his wedding ring in his face. 

“Realistically, they’ll look more like you. Japanese genes are more dominant, after all. They’ll have lighter hair, maybe my forehead…”

“How do you know?” Yuuri turned to look at Viktor, who immediately looked sheepish.

“I might have googled ‘Russian Japanese babies’ a few times in my life…”

“In your life?” A small mischievous smile curled on Yuuri’s lips. “Are you saying…?”

“The first time was when I found out you were an omega, yes.” Viktor flushed, focusing on the road instead of the conversation.

Yuuri giggled, thankfully leaving it at that, the hum of the engine lulling him back into his nap.

“We’re going to have to edit the announcement..” Yuuri mumbled.


	3. The after

Viktor’s heart stopped the moment he stepped in the door.  
He didn’t know if it was his Alpha biology at work, or just Yuuri being Yuuri that made his heart stutter and his throat swell with desire and love.

Both. It was both.

Yuuri was stretched out on the floor, all four fans they owned centered on him in a holy circle. He was dressed only in his boxer briefs, his hair brushed back from his face and damp with sweat. Viktor could see the swell of his stomach in all the glory. With the news of a second baby, everything had changed. Sponsors moved up photoshoot dates, milestones moved up and Yuuri’s clothes grew too tight too soon. Theres was no mistaking Yuuri’s belly for off-season chub now. Even when he tried to hide behind sweatpants and oversized sweaters.

“Yuuri, what’s wrong?” Viktor dropped his coat on the floor at the doorway, kicking his shoes off in time to fall onto his knees next to his husband.

“Hot.” Yuuri groaned. He could no longer sleep on his back, and the apartment now contained twice as many pillows of varying shapes and sizes to accommodate this. A second nest was growing in their living room.  
Viktor pressed his hand against Yuuri’s forehead. It was spring in St. Petersburg, and it had only recently just crept above freezing temperatures.

“We should go to a doctor,” Viktor pressed the back of his hand against Yuuri’s cheek. His eyes were still closed, and he was burning hot.

“Hot flash. Googled it.” Yuuri mumbled, nuzzling into Viktor’s touch. Yuuri was surrounded by half-thawed bags of frozen vegetables and an empty box of Dadu ice cream.

“A flash is quick, Yuuri,” Viktor couldn’t keep the whine out of his tone, smoothing his hand over the round swell of Yuuri’s stomach. Morning sickness had finally passed, but he had still left Yuuri at home when he had struggled to get out of bed that morning. It was a grave mistake Viktor hated himself for already. “Let’s go.” He pulled at Yuuri’s side, and he squirmed.

“Not when I’m naked!” He cried, sitting up with some help from Viktor. His skin was slick with sweat, and his balance was off from the growing weight in his core.

“Let me help.” Viktor scrambled back onto his feet, reaching the bedroom before Yuuri managed to waddle there. He grabbed a grey tshirt-- probably his, but who knew anymore-- and a pair of pregnancy sweatpants gifted by Mizuno.

“Right foot.” Viktor hummed. Yuuri lifted his foot, but wobbled as Viktor wrestled the fabric onto it. Yuuri couldn’t see his feet anymore, and he seemed more interesting in smoothing his fingers over the whorl on the back of Viktor’s head.

“You’re going to make me bald with worry, starlight,” Viktor sighed, pulling the sweatpants over Yuuri’s waist-- or what was left of it.  
Yuuri only hummed instead of his usual response-- harried comfort if he was feeling sorry, or a simple You don't need any help if they were being sassy.

“Yuuri…” Viktor cupped his cheek, staring into Yuuri’s dreamy gaze. His cheeks were permanently flushed-- he only liked seeing it when he caused it. “What have you eaten today?”

“....ice cream.” Yuuri said after some thought. He already looked uncomfortable just at the addition of jogging sweats. Viktor regretted pulling the cotton over Yuuri’s head and over his stomach, even if there was no hiding it.

“Anything else?”

Yuuri blinked, before swaying forward to rest his head against Viktor’s collar bone.

“Yuuri, you’re eating for three!” Viktor was about to go into one of his coach-like tirades before Yuuri shook his head.

“I did… I just… English?” The annoyance was quelled with an overwhelming deluge of dread.

“Yuuri, you’re definitely sick. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I feel bad all the time.” He mumbled. He nuzzled Viktor’s chest, hitting a sensitive spot that made Viktor’s nerves sing and his stomach twist at the battling sensations.  
He couldn’t be mad. He wouldn’t dare say what about the babies. Because he suddenly wasn’t worried about them. As worried. Not as much as he was for Yuuri-- who had been feeling this way for months, silently, always meeting Viktor with a smile   
This was all his fault.

“This is no good, Yuuri. We’ll have to cancel our trips.” Despite their sudden retirement, each of them had been invited to commentate at their respective National championships as well as the Olympics.

“No! No, we can’t!” Yuuri’s voice dropped from the panicked squeak. “Can we just go to the doctor first? Please?”

Victor rarely, if ever could say no to Yuuri, especially when he was rubbing up against him. (It was some sort of magic). They drove to the closest emergency care, spending a short thirty minutes in the waiting room together. Viktor barely had time to fan Yuuri with a fan folded out of a safe-sex pamphlet stolen from the pharmacy before they were called in.

“Is he going to be okay? What about the babies?” Viktor wrung his hands when the doctor came in- he only showed his face for a total of three minutes out of the hours long visit. 

“Mr Katsuki will be fine,”

“Nikiforov.” Viktor interrupted.

“Sorry?”  
“Katsuki-Nikiforov. “ Viktor tapped Yuuri’s medical notes impatiently. “What about the babies?”

“They should be fine, too.” The doctor continued slowly. “You’re well past the first trimester, which where the most risk is. Luckily, it seems to be a viral infection. You’ll just need to take paracetamol and make sure to stay hydrated.”

Viktor let out a sigh he didn’t know he had been holding. He let Yuuri doze on the way home, his flushed cheek pressed against the window of their car. He stopped, only to pick up a case of sports drinks, ice cream and another few packs of sweets. Yuuri’s tastes had veered solely into highly-processed carbohydrate category. His favorite being the cheap sticky buns sold by the box most commonly in petrol stations.

Viktor could be worried, but he was only charmed-- remembering that it was the same guilty treat he had snuck during his teen years between tutoring and training.

“What do you want for dinner, starlight?” Viktor cooed, wrapping his arms around Yuuri as he stood in the kitchen, trying to down half a bottle of a brightly colored drink. He had abandoned the sweats yet again, but kept Viktor’s tshirt on as a compromise, even if it didn’t cover him completely.

“Probably some vegetables,” He sighed, poking at the pile of cakes still sitting on the table.  
“I could make…” Viktor struggled for the words “Yasei-don?” It worked. Yuuri laughed, his nose wrinkling cutely.  
“Yasai-don, if that’s even a thing. Do we have any chicken?”  
“If we dont, I could certainly get some.” Viktor kissed Yuuri’s cheek, nearly getting smacked by the bottle preoccupying Yuuri’s lips.

“No,” Yuuri said so softly it made Viktor ache. “Please don’t leave.”

“I won’t. Ever. Not when you say it like that, my Yuuri.” Viktor squeezed his husband tightly, and Yuuri melted into him.

“Vitya?” Yuuri said after a long moment of comfortable silence.

“Anything for you, Yuuri,” 

“I’m scared,” His voice dropped in volume. If Viktor wasn’t so close to him, he might not have heard.  
“The doctor and two other nurses said the babies will be fine. You just need to get better.” Viktor hugged Yuuri tightly.

“What happens when I can’t protect them anymore?” Yuuri’s voice was small.

“Well, that will be when they are adults, and we’re a long way away from that.” Viktor chirped. Normal anxious Yuuri. Better than unconscious fevered Yuuri.

“No. When they’re born.” Yuuri played with the lip of the bottle in his hands. “Right now they’re safe. We’re all together…”

“It feels nice,” Viktor closed his eyes, moving to press his palms against Yuuri’s belly.

“What happens when they get sick? What happens when they’re born and they get too big and I drop one?”

“Yuuri, you’re not going to drop them. If you do, children are very solid. They fall over all the time.” Viktor couldn’t knock the frustration in his tone. Next, Yuuri would be worried about giving the babies smallpox or something else inconceivable.

“They could hate me.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Yuuri! They can’t! Everyone loves you, and they’re part me.. So they’re going to love you more than anything.”

“I’m not ready to share you.” Yuuri said, his tone short and heavy with anxiety.

“Shhh,” Viktor cupped Yuuri’s face in his hands. “We can do this. I know we can.”

Yuuri opened his mouth to protest, Viktor pre-empting it with a kiss.

“When you’re better, I want you to meet someone very important to me.”

“O...okay.” Yuuri’s gaze flickered downward.

“I love you.” Viktor pressed another kiss to Yuuri’s lips. Yuuri’s eyes flickered up to meet Viktor’s with a smile. 

“I love you too.”

~~  
When Viktor woke up, the bed beside him was empty.  
When they first married-- no, since they first started sharing a room, Viktor had always been the first one to wake up. Yuuri was the night owl, up past the witching hour and struggling to get out of bed in time for their morning run. On their rest days, Yuuri would sleep into noon, and then still wouldn’t be fully awake for another hour.

However, since finding out about the babies, everything about Yuuri had been off the table. He had fallen asleep as soon as the sun thought of setting, and often spent mornings in the bathroom leaning over the toilet. No matter how often it happened, it still sent a spike of anxiety up Viktor’s spine.

“Yuuri?” Viktor called, slipping out of the comforter and stepping onto the bedroom floor. He loved Hasetsu, but never as much as St. Petersburg and their ubiquitous heated flooring.

Makkachin barked, a short acknowledgement from the kitchen.

“Yuuri, what are you doing?” Viktor yawned. The kitchen was several degrees cooler than the bedroom, but still warmer than anywhere in Japan.

“I’m hungry.” Yuuri was still in his pajamas, covered in flour. Even makkachin was coated in fine dusting, making her look a little ghost-like.

“We have leftovers from dinner.” Viktor folded his arms, trying to not to laugh. “What were you trying to do?”

“I’m craving those tiny pancakes.”

“Blini?” Viktor’s smile brightened into a wide grin. “By God, those are my children!” He sang, leaning down to kiss Yuuri’s stomach. “I’ll make some. Go and relax.”

“I can totally do it--”

“Can you? Or was Makkachin doing it for you?” Viktor laughed, Yuuri’s mouth twisting into adorable indignation.   
“Makka wanted to help by jumping on me, yeah.” Yuuri brushed the flour out of his hair, watching Viktor pull out a canister of cinnamon from the cabinet.

“Let me take care of my family. Go sit.” Viktor pushed Yuuri gently on the small of his back. He waddled to the living room, sinking into the couch. Makkachin followed close behind, jumping on and curling on top of his legs.

“Makka, you’re too big.” Viktor sang sweetly.

“Every dog is a lap dog.” Yuuri mumbled, playing with the poodle’s ears. 

Viktor hummed as he mixed the thin batter. He shook his hips to his made up melody as he pulled sour cream and fruit preserves from the fridge and set them on the counter. He plugged in the samovar next, pulling his two favorite mugs to brew tea in.

“I should be pregnant more often.” Yuuri hummed in pleasure, cupping the warm mug in his hands, his lips curling into a smile at the plate set in front of him. Each blini pancake was rolled and arranged above two puddles of jam on the plate like a ray of sunshine, a drizzle of cinnamon syrup striping the soft rolls.

“I wouldn’t complain. It’s been pretty fun for me.” 

~~

It had been years since Viktor had set foot on the campus. It had been his last taste of normal, before Yakov had set him up with tutors...and he had good reason not to face what the grounds held for him.

He may have grown up in the halls of the catholic school, but his mother lay buried behind the church. That was enough to keep him away for more than ten years.

But now he had Yuuri, and now he had two of Viktor-and-Yuuri’s coming, and he couldn’t ignore it any longer.

“It looks like Harry Potter.” Yuuri murmured. It was still cold outside-- Yuuri wrapped in the only wool coat in St. Petersburg big enough to button over his belly-- but there was the promise of spring in the air.

“I guess it does. It was just school for me.” Viktor laughed, his hand twisted around Yuuri’s.

“It’s kind of early to think about school.” Yuuri’s other hand rested on his stomach. He was so big and round that neighbors had begun sending over booties and gifts as if the babies would be born any minute. But they still had until July, and if Yuuri had any say in it, that is how long it would take. Even if it meant he could only walk half as fast and only sleep on his side in a nest of pillows.

“I wasn’t thinking of that. I wanted you to meet someone.”

“Your old math teacher?” It was between a joke and a genuine question. Viktor didn’t have enough time to explain.

“Viktor Andreyevich! Look at you!” the oldest of the nuns cooed, a train of seven of them behind her. Viktor could recall three of them, their faces softened by age. He was sure they all knew him in some way-- his father attended the same school, and had shared at least one teacher with his son.

Yuuri’s eyes searched Viktor’s, asking for an explanation. Yuuri could order a coffee and exchange pleasantries with the neighbors, but the nun’s thick Russian was beyond him.

“Happy and healthy, sisters.” Viktor smiled his brilliant Russian smile. “This is my husband, Yuuri Katsuki-Nikiforov.” He pressed his hand to the small of Yuuri’s back.

“Blessed to meet you, Yuuri Katsuki.” one of the youngers sisters said. One woman, who Viktor vaguely remembered as his theology teacher pressed her hand to Yuuri’s stomach. Sister after sister joined her, soft and wrinkled hands laid on Yuuri’s ridiculously large stomach. A few said prayers, others cooed sweetly to the unborn. 

Viktor laughed as a younger sister asked about their enrollment process.  
It felt familiar, even if it had been a decade since Viktor had set foot inside a church. 

They take another twenty minutes to say their goodbyes, a few of the older and looser ladies pulling Viktor into a hug. 

When they’re alone, Yuuri is too quiet.

“That was nice.” Viktor said, his eyes turning to the corner of the grounds where his mother is buried.

Yuuri’s breath comes too fast, and his voice doesn’t come at all.

“Yuuri?” Viktor’s heart fell into his stomach as he moved to stand in front of his husband.  
The nostalgic buzz of the chance meeting is completely erased at the sight of Yuuri’s wet eyes, of Yuuri shrinking away from him.

“We’ll come back tomorrow.” Viktor moved to take Yuuri’s hand. Bringing him to a graveyard would be too heavy, especially with Yuuri on the thin edge of anxiety.

“No. I want to know why we’re here.”

“You’re anxious, Yuuri, it’s not the right time.”

“I’m fine!” Yuuri’s voice breaks on the last syllable.

“We’ll come back another day, Yuuri.”

“I’m fine, Viktor! It was.. It was just a lot of touching, and pressing, and I didn’t know what the were saying.”

“It was just some blessings for the babies. It’s no big deal.” Viktor regrets the words the moment he said them. The tears threatening to spill over streamed down Yuuri’s face, gravel crunching underfoot. Yuuri’s steps are heavy stomps as he walked back to the car.

“Yuuri! I’m sorry, I shouldn’t say it was a big deal. It’s not my place.” Viktor’s breath feels painful. Yuuri still won’t look at him, even as his coat catches the tears dripping off his cheeks.

“I know you don’t like being touched. I should’ve said something.”

“My body is for me.. And you alone..” The words come out sounding angrier than Yuuri means them. “Why does everyone think they can come up and grab me?”

“Oh, Yuuri..”

Yuuri winced, his hand sliding from the front of his stomach to the side. “Katya doesn’t like it. She won’t stop kicking.” Yuuri’s mouth stretched into a grimace with the words.

“How….?”

“Ekaterina is here…” Yuuri’s right hand flattens against the side of his stomach , the fabric moving nearly imperceptible. “And… Nikolai is on the left..” His left hand slides into a lower position. “That’s what the doctor said.”

“Katya… be nice to your daddy. He is working so hard.” Viktor voice comes out in a soft coo. He wants nothing more to hold Yuuri, to comfort him and to feel the pressure of their child against his hand. But Yuuri needs space, however painful it is to give it to him.

“Share the space with Kolya,” Yuuri said with a grunt, arching his back to stretch.

“I love it when you speak russian.” Viktor hums. “It’s incredibly sexy.”

“Vitya, we’re ten meters from a church and your old teachers.”

“It’s blasphemy not to tell you when you turn me on.” Viktor turned on his best charming smile.

“What’s the russian for ‘stop being such an embarrassing dork’” Yuuri huffed, before giving Viktor a private smile. 

“What’s the Japanese for ‘Never’” Viktor couldn’t resist him anymore, wrapping his arms around his husband and resting it on top of his round belly.

“You know how to say that, it was in your vows.” Yuuri let Viktor touch him. He leaned into Viktor’s chest, taking one of Viktor’s hand and sliding it to the side.

“Wow, my Katya, what a strong girl.” Viktor cooed at the pressure against his palm.

“Too strong,” Yuuri arched his back again, lifting his chin to look up at his husband. “It’s not fair. You should feel what this is like.”

“I would take the pain if I could, Yuuri.”

“Yeah?” He didn’t seem to believe him. “What, you’d want to be an omega?”

Viktor looked deep in thought. “Well, it would have made my teenage years a little easier. But I’m happy with who I am now. With you.”

“What if I was an alpha?” 

“Then I would’ve fallen for you just as hard.” Viktor pressed a kiss to Yuuri’s forehead. “I think your anxiety is talking, love.” “Maybe I like hearing you talk.” a soft blush graced his cheeks. “Weren’t we supposed to meet someone?”

“Yeah, but there’s no time limit. We can come back later.”

“No, we’re already here. Who are we meeting?” Yuuri turned in Viktor’s arms until they were chest to chest, his brow furrowed. Yuuri could be stubborn.

“My mother.” Viktor sighed, watching Yuuri’s expression soften.

Yuuri had never pressed for details about his family, and he still didn’t. He simply reached for Viktor’s hand, holding it tightly in his. “Let’s go?”

Viktor led him to the corner of the grounds where the cemetery was located. His great-grandmother and father lay a few plots over from his mother, who had one of the newer headstones in the row. The ground to the right of the plot lay empty and untouched, marked for his father and eventually, Viktor.

(Viktor would have to contact the church once he had a good explanation for getting rid of the plot beside I’d rather risk hell and be laid to rest in a buddhist ceremony with my husband)

They stood together at the foot of her grave in a moment of awkward silence.

“Um, mother. This is Yuuri, the love of my life. We got married last year.” Viktor spoke to the chilly air. Yuuri watched him, before his eyes flickered back to the headstone.

“Nice to...meet you, Mrs. Nikiforov.” Yuuri squinted at the cyrillic epitaph.

“Ekaterina.”

“Oh.” Yuuri’s hand touched his stomach, his eyes widening at the revelation.

“I should have come earlier.. I’m sorry. I thought you’d understand… and know how happy I am.” Viktor continued, training his eyes on the headstone. “Before, I was too scared to visit. But Yuuri makes me so happy, I’m not scared anymore.”

Viktor moved forward, brushing dry leaves and moss from the top of the stone. He froze, looking back when he heard Yuuri sniffle.

“Oh, Yuuri, what’s wrong?” Viktor stood up, his stomach twisting with worry. Was this too much? 

“You a--always go on how happy I make you, but you’re the one who makes me happy.” Yuuri hiccuped.

Viktor’s laugh burst out in a cloud into the cold air. “I’ll say it until my dying day, Yuuri. Even when it’s obvious.” He took his place next to Yuuri, hugging him close. 

“Mama… Yuuri’s carrying your grandchildren. Two, at once. He’s so good. I’ll bring them when they’re old enough. August, most likely, God be willing they stay inside that long.”

Yuuri let Viktor talk for most of the visit, pausing to press his palms together in a silent prayer before they walked back to the car.

 

The visit would be coming sooner than anyone of them wished for.

~~

Makkachin woke him up with the loudest bark he’d heard since the first day she had seen the window washers clean their windows. She was well trained-- for being brought up by Viktor, anyway- and never barked out of the blue.

Until today, where it was two in the morning, and Viktor was alone in the bedroom yet again.

“What is it, girl?” Viktor yawned, reaching out to stroke her curly head. Makkachin barked again, pawing at his hand with a fervor greater than I need a walk.

“Yuuri?” Viktor sat up with a panic when he reached out to pat the other side of the bed, only to find it empty. He stumbled out of bed, his feet heavy on the hardwood floor as he stomped to the bathroom. It was dark, and Viktor found himself running to the living room. Yuuri was perched on the couch, one of the cushions from the loveseat pressed into the small of his back and his legs folded underneath him.

“Yuuri!” Viktor gasped, a visceral reaction to the pained noise that escaped from Yuuri’s lips. His knees burned with pain as he dropped onto them with enough force for bruises to bloom instantly.

“Morning…” Yuuri gasped once the pain had passed.

“Yuuri, are you in labor?” They had already attended childbirth classes, preparing for the worst and hoping for the best. They still had another month until Nikolai wouldn’t be considered premature.. But the doctor had told him that multiple pregnancies were harder, and it was likely the babies would be admitted to the intensive care unit no matter what.

“Kind of?” Yuuri grimaced. “D-don’t look at me like that. I timed it. It’s not enough to go to the hospital yet.”

“We should go. Maybe they can give you something to delay it.”

“Or not. It’s just keeping me awake. We don’t have to go to the hospital yet, Vitya.”

Viktor frowned. He trusted Yuuri, but his immediate instinct was to go where it was safest. And safe meant hospital.

“Should I call your parents?” Viktor fussed, smoothing Yuuri’s hair back and adjusting the small nest of pillows on the couch. Yuuri had dragged a few of the blankets Viktor had bought him with him into the living room.

Yuuri shrugged. “They’re probably busy.”

“They’d want to know.”

“I want you to stay with me.” Yuuri relented. Viktor went back into the bedroom, pulling on a pair of pants and a shirt and pausing to make them tea before returning to Yuuri on the couch. He called Yuutopia’s main line, setting it on speaker as Makkachin curled up at his feet.

“Yuutopia Katsuki”  
“Mama?” Yuuri gasped, flushing at how juvenile he sounded. Viktor rubbed small circles into his back. He felt a lot better surrounded by his husbands scent, but the tenseness and the pain of his muscles moving and pushing without his say was a little bit terrifying.

“Yuuri, what’s wrong?” Hiroko sounded as cheerful as ever, but her mother's instincts were strong. The background noise on the phone line dropped.

“I think they’re coming. The babies. I mean, I think I’m in labor.”

Viktor stared at the floor in front of him. It was harder to decipher Japanese after spending so long in St. Petersburg. Even though it was the easy Saga-ben he had started off learning, they spoke much too fast for Viktor to catch every word.

But the call was for Yuuri, not for him. They talked, and Hiroko told him to do things that Viktor knew Yuuri would obey, if only for his mother. They talked for another hour, before Yuuri was gripped by another contraction.

Yuuri didn’t leave the couch for the entire day-- the contractions not increasing, but not lessening their grip either.

“We should go.” Viktor said, his voice hushed as they reached the twelfth hour. They would’ve gone earlier, if it weren’t for Katya’s avid kicking between contractions reassuring Viktor on some level that they were all okay. 

Yuuri nodded, letting Viktor carry him down the stairs to the car, his nose buried in Viktor’s neck. Makkachin whined, scratching at the door and breaking Viktor’s heart.

Yuuri didn’t seem to rest any easier with sensors and wired glued to his stomach. Three hearts beat strongly on the monitor as the sun rose yet again.

“Yuuri, they’re going to see about getting you a cesarean section.” Viktor translated the doctor’s latest update, smoothing Yuuri’s hair back into the mint-green hospital pillow.

“No thank you.” Yuuri mumbled, the pain dulled by the medicine dripping directly into his spine.

“Yuuri, I don’t think you get to say no.” Viktor bit out, his anxiety spiking. “It’s either push, or he pulls the babies out.”

Yuuri’s eyes shot wide open. “No way, Viktor. They’re not coming out until they’re ready!”

“The doctor knows what to do, Yuuri.” Viktor snapped, immediately regretting it at the look of fear on Yuuri’s face.

“They’re my babies in my body. “ Yuuri tried to sound stubborn, but his voice shook nonetheless.

It’s 3pm when Viktor returns the room, paper cup of too-hot tea in his hand. Yuuri’s feet, wrapped in mismatched socks are pressing against the metal stirrups connected to the bed. His bangs are plastered to his forehead with sweat, and his gasp for air is returned with a cat-like cry.

Viktor drops the cup of tea. 

Part of him should be disgusted-- his child is grey-ish, squished and covered with blood. But he only feels in awe, in love and absolutely terrified. He gets to hold his eldest for what feels like only an instant. His chest burns, and he feels like he his holding his breath until the second cry comes twenty minutes later.

Yuuri fell asleep within minutes, as soon as the nurse places the two bundles on his chest. As expected, Katya the big sister is larger and stronger looking than her brother, who is half her size. Though technically not twins ( a fact Yuuri will never let Viktor live down) they share the same wispy cinnamon brown hair and bow-shape mouth that Yuuri prayed for.

“They’re perfect, Yuuri. They look just like you.” Viktor’s heart is so full that it aches. He is thankful that he is too tired to act on the primal urges prickling the back of his brain. He wants to shut everyone out, be alone with only his Yuuri and his Kolya and Katya… but they arrived to early, and Viktor’s logic knows they need to take care of them.

~~

“Yuuri,” Viktor’s voice echoed across the apartment. The sun has just risen, and Katya is already awake and nursing. Nikolai is balanced against Yuuri’s other knee.

“I’m busy!” Yuuri called back, rubbing the nipple of the bottle against his sons bottom lip. “If you both would coordinate a little bit, that’d be great.” Yuuri hissed. 

“Say aaaah.” Viktor teased, holding a white pill between his fingers.

“Aaah?” Yuuri blinked, before grimacing and opening his mouth wide.

He almost forgot. Again.

Viktor dropped the heat blocker into Yuuri’s mouth, following the bitter taste with a kiss.

 

Better three hours too soon than a minute too late. 

William Shakespeare


End file.
